They Taste Better on Tuesdays
by PhoenixDragonDreamer
Summary: Astounding. The man seemed to be familiar with him, but funnily enough, he couldn't place the intruder at all. And he was very good with faces. It was something he prided himself on – after all, he'd had a few himself.


**Warnings:** Missing Scene, Character Study, Silliness, Introspection, Surprise!Canon!Character  
**A/N:** Written for **who_at_50** for the prompt: **Fourth Doctor/Companions** - with a bit of a twist thrown in. This one is comprised of the usual ramblings, a tad too much silliness and a hit-and-miss with the thinky. It was also written while dead-tired (for a variety of reasons) and will likely sound that way. Sorry about that. Wandery-blithery-silly within (youse has been warned), with a tad of *headdesk* and 'OMG' thrown in for good measure. Accuracy to character was aimed for, but likely missed...sorry about that. As always, mostly unbeta'd and written in one go, so please forgive any mistakes and/or blatant vagueness. I apologize for any repetition, misspellings, sentence fails, grammatical oh-noes and general horridness. Unbeta'd fic is overly-thinky/blithery and unbeta'd.  
**A/N 2:** Originally written/posted Nov. 22, 2013  
**Disclaimer(s): **_I do not own the scrumptious Doctor or his lovely companions. That honor goes to the BBC and (for now) the fantastic S. Moffat. The only thing that belongs to me is this fiction - and I am making no profit. Only playing about!_

* * *

It should have worked. It would have worked. Maybe he crossed the wires. All he knew was that somehow, when he tried to reset the shield oscillators, a whole lot of other things changed to boot. The oscillators were still malfunctioning (definitely crossed a few wires wrong), but somehow when he toggled the zig-zag plotter, he found himself moved to a whole new control room. One he had never seen before. Maybe a future one? It certainly wasn't a past one.

Ah well, didn't matter. He'd just jig it again and see if the Old Thing could get him back into a console room that was less green and coral-ly – the colors just didn't sit right with him. They certainly didn't match his scarf. Or his hair. And they'd probably make the jelly babies taste off as well. This was definitely not a control room one ate jelly babies in.

Too solemn for that.

He ducked under the console to see if he could rewire the rewiring when he heard the unmistakable sound of a vortex manipulator and really – who used those things? Glitchy, faulty and prone to landing one in swamps (or Dalek nests), like as not. TARDISes were more reliable. Certainly less prone to swamps and Dalek nests. Though (obviously) not in the slightest bit concerned about keeping out unwanted intruders when the oscillators were down.

He popped his head over the side of the console and eyed the newcomer curiously, intrigued when said newcomer didn't well…_behave_ like a newcomer. I mean, he was openly stroking the console and –

Did the TARDIS just purr?

She did.

Couldn't have that. Not without knowing who and what She was purring for. And he was decidedly not jealous. He didn't do jealousy.

He munched a jelly baby (red, his favorite – at least for today) and eased himself up from his crouched position, noting how the man didn't seem to see him yet. Splendid! More time to study him in.

And he seemed very, _very_ familiar with the TARDIS. Overly so. And something wasn't quite right about him. Almost like he didn't 'fit' where he was standing. The Timelines streaming off of him were also deeply disturbing, to say the least. They seemed to be…_everywhere_. And that wasn't right – that wasn't right at all.

K-9 would have found him fascinating. If he didn't shoot him first.

"Doctor!" the man called (towards where one would assume the galley would be in this version of the console room). "Doctor, are you here?"

Astounding. The man seemed to be familiar with him, but funnily enough, he couldn't place the intruder at all. And he was very good with faces. It was something he prided himself on – after all, he'd had a few himself.

"Hullo, young man," the Doctor said with an overly bright grin. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for the –" the man started to say, then stopped, blinking at him in obvious confusion. "Doctor."

"I am the Doctor. Which is convenient for you, I must say. Jelly baby?" He proffered the wax bag of treats, noting how the man _started_ to reach for them, but stopped halfway. Cautious one he was. "Now we've gotten half of the introductions out of the way, we can start with yours. Who are you and what are you doing in my TARDIS."

"Shield oscillators must be down," the man mused. "Sorry, I'm Captain…"

"Captain…Captain what?" the Doctor asked, sneaking another jelly baby. Ewww. Green. But it would have to do, wouldn't it?

The man hesitated a moment, then broke out with a grin broad enough (not to mention _cheeky_ enough), to rival his own. He looked down at the bag of jelly babies and snagged the last orange one – damn all the luck – and popped it into his mouth with a sigh of contentment.

"Sorry," he coughed, not looking sorry at all. "I'm Captain Troy Handsome of International Rescue."

"International?" The Doctor queried, slightly flummoxed. "I'm rather interstellar at the moment. Isn't that slightly outside of your jurisdiction? And where is that jurisdiction, may I ask?"

"We've grown outside of our own logo," the Captain stated sheepishly. "It's Earth…ish. But we've tried to expand ourselves to keep up with the growing, traveling population."

He shrugged, snagging another jelly baby (a red one this time) and raised his eyebrows, cheeky grin becoming a little more serious.

"As I said, International Rescue. Please state the nature of your emergency." He smiled again, looking a little more relaxed and a little less thrown. Which could be a good thing, depending….well, depending on a manner of things.

K-9 still would have gotten a telling off for attempting to shoot him, though.

He missed K-9 at times like these.

"Well, it is less of an emergency and more of a repair job still in the works," the Doctor explained easily. "I was just putting the finishing touches on the Old Thing when I crossed a few wires and landed in a room I didn't know I had. Bit of a minor mishap. Hardly an emergency. Try the yellow ones. They're my favorites on Tuesdays."

The Captain helped himself to a yellow one and looked slightly disappointed (at what the Doctor couldn't say), but he rallied well enough, chewing the candy with a little more leisure as he took in the surroundings. He seemed almost sad and the Doctor found himself sympathetic as well as intrigued. He more than understood being on familiar ground and still being lost.

"A very good color for Tuesday," the Captain agreed, then thumbed a purple switch (just a tap) before shooting the Doctor a significant look. "Try that switch. It should put you back where you need to be and get the shield's back to full normal. And no, before you can ask – spoilers. But we'll meet again, Doctor."

And with that, he was gone – nothing but the distinct stench of ozone left behind to indicate he had even been there at all. The Doctor wrinkled his nose in distaste at the smell and frowned when the TARDIS let out a low hum, like She was upset about something. When he poked at Her, She immediately dimmed, then clammed up –

Like She was keeping a secret.

So he was an acquaintance in the future. Fascinating.

And really none of his business.

'Spoilers' indeed.

Out of sheer curiosity, he toggled the purple switch as the Captain had instructed – and found himself being transferred to the Victorian console room: which was a bit of a comfort, really. Not the room itself (he always found it too spacious and vaulted for his liking), but the idea that the unknown man didn't know the Old Girl as well as he thought he did.

The shield oscillators were still down. And it was two console rooms over from his 'usual' one.

Bother.

At least in _this_ console room the jelly babies wouldn't taste so…sour. And he knew where he was – which was decidedly handy…Handy. Handsome. He'd have to remember that one. Might be useful at a later date. When he had more of an actual emergency and less of a glitchy annoyance on his hands.

Right. Shield oscillators.

With a sigh, he tried to put the random encounter out of his mind and get back to rewiring the rewiring. One intruder was more than enough for this century as far as he was concerned. Now that K-9 was no longer around, it paid to be more cautious.

Maybe he'd build another. Mark V. Had a nice ring to it.

He popped a yellow jelly baby into his mouth (definitely a Tuesday one…though 'Monday' was close enough) and set back to work, leaving the future (consoles, Companions and all), for another day. There was more than enough to be going on with here. And enough sweets and tea to see the job through.

All in all, it was (odd encounter aside), shaping up to be a marvelous Monday. Which was saying something where Mondays were concerned (seeing as how they were just glorified Sundays in the calendar-sense). Still…he was looking forward to Tuesday. Always something set to happen on those days.

And if he could get the shields working, well…that was tomorrow. Tomorrow was another day, as the old saying went. You never knew who you'd meet or where you'd end up.

The possibilities (truly) were endless.


End file.
